


Conflict of Perception

by Ezlebe



Category: Franklin & Bash
Genre: Gen, Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-09
Updated: 2013-06-09
Packaged: 2017-12-14 09:35:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/835434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ezlebe/pseuds/Ezlebe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Basher, look at my pictures!" Lessie practically squeals, the words running together as she grabs his hand in her two tiny ones. She drags him over to a giant wall of drawings, pointing to one near the middle, just above her own head,  "I drawed the Cave!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conflict of Perception

"Basher, look at my pictures!" Lessie practically squeals, the words running together as she grabs his hand in her two tiny ones. She drags him over to a giant wall of drawings, pointing to one near the middle, just above her own head,  "I drawed the Cave!"

"Yeah, I can see that," Peter says, leaning forward and poking at her drawing; the shaky letters of an unpracticed hand spelling out her name at the corner. "You are making me feel so old right now, lil Shark."

Lessie grins up at him, elated. "Old as Uncle?"

"Old as him," Peter nods slowly, raising his eyebrows. "How about we make a deal, though," he says, and crouches down, voice becoming a conspiratorial whisper, "The second I start to look like him, tell me."

"Deal," Lessie agrees immediately, then holds out her hand, small fingers grabbing for his. "Now we shake or it's not real." She says ‘real’ precisely, staring up at him, and he realizes he's probably looking down at the fifth Franklin to practice law.

(Well, it'll either be that or a criminal, disregarding any of the obvious overlap.)

He shakes her hand firmly, then surprises her by holding on to it as he stands, twirling her around and making her laugh.

"Basher! Basher, imma throw up!" Lessie says through giggles, digging her heels in and running into his side. "My head's all spinny," she says, looking up at him through her eyelashes. "I'm telling Daddy you got me sick again."

"You're gonna use your own dad against me now?" Peter asks in mock disbelief, shuffling her off towards the hallway. "I can't believe it - "

"I will, I will!" Lessie yells in excitement.

Peter jokingly shushes her as they exit the gym, stepping out into a colorful hallway, and holds out his hand for her to take, just in case.

"I will, and then I won't have to go to school for a week," she continues in an excited whisper. "Just like the beach."

Peter clicks his tongue, looking down at her, "I dunno, is school as fun as the beach?"

Lessie's mouth twists, and she appears to actually think about it, "No?"

"Then you'd still have to go," Peter says with a sigh, shaking his head like it's a shame. "We'd just give you one of Pindy's masks and stick you on the bus."

There's a moment of silence, and Peter mentally pats himself on the back.

"I don't ride the bus," Lessie says in confusion.

Peter sighs, narrowing his eyes somewhere down the hall. "It's a figure of speech?" He tells her slowly, hoping it sounds realistic.

He glances down to see her pouting at the floor.

Victory achieved.

"You always make me go to school," Lessie says petulantly.

Peter rolls his eyes, "Don't you want to get smart like me and your dad?"

"School is boring," Lessie huffs, disproportionately irritated for someone who's biggest problem is writing the alphabet. She grumbles, feet dragging, "I don't like Ms. Taku."

Peter furrows his brow. Ms. Taku had been 'amazing and sparkly' last week. Like on unicorn levels of awesome.

"Uh," he starts eloquently, "Why?"

Lessie's pout deepens, "Ms Taku laughed when - " she stops suddenly, letting go of Peter's hand and covering her mouth with both of her own. "I'm not supposed to tell you," she whispers loudly. "It's a secret."

Naturally, Peter's immediately suspicious. The last time this happened, Jared had told her how to get back at a bully by sticking glue in finger paints.

"Did your dad tell you to prank someone again?" He asks slowly, trying to make the words as unthreatening as possible. "Because I told you to ignore him, remember? His ideas are - " Absolute bullshit. "Are naughty."

Lessie shakes her head, and Peter reluctantly believes her, but only because her caught face is almost identical to Jared's, and that wasn't it. They're both too proud to play innocent very effectively.

"I promise you can tell me, Lessie," Peter says, patting gently at her shoulder. "I won't get mad."

She continues to hold her hands over her mouth, shaking her head.

Peter sighs, "It's not bad, though?"

She shakes her head again, the corners of a grin peeking out through her hands, "It's a present."

"Okay," Peter says slowly. A present; great, hopefully it's not another box of crickets.

~

  
  


When they reenter the main lobby - of which there are three, one for each floor, because apparently an elementary school needs that many - Jared's still across the room, but rather than talking to the parents of the poor little boy that Lessie probably scarred for life, he’s talking to Ms. Taku. He's smiling like he's trying get in her pants, but is probably, in all actuality, trying to make her forget that his daughter is a hellion and he's the one who encourages it.

Lessie's only been at this school for four months, and in that time Jared's been called in three times. He'd actually tried to get Peter to go in his place when she'd apparently staged some sort of dessert oriented coup of the cafeteria. Luckily, somewhat, he'd been scheduled for court and managed not to end up with the responsibility for explaining how that wasn't completely crazy for a five year old to even try, let alone succeed at.

Actually, Peter hasn't been to the school other than to drop her off or pick her up, and feels a fair amount guilty for not continuing the trend of involvement that he had at her pre-school. He’s here now, though, which should make up for that a little.

He hefts up Lessie when she starts to drag her feet to the point of near stopping, and determinedly holds on until she wriggles herself into submission and settles into his side.

"I don't wanna," Lessie mutters into his ear. In addition to petulant, she actually sounds a little tired, of which he can sympathize. It might explain how much she’s suddenly hating on her teacher.

"We'll leave soon," Peter assures her, "Your dad would cry if we stayed here much longer."

"Daddy's not allowed to cry," Lessie says with a little scoff, laying her head on his shoulder. "He's too big."

Peter absentmindedly hums his agreement, weaving through the gossiping parents and bored children that form a fairly effective border from Jared.

They're all wearing painfully expensive clothing and speaking in that haughty undertone that seems to follow rich people around like fog; he feels distinctly uncomfortable despite technically being in the same tax bracket. Honestly, he's still surprised that he's not getting picked out as odd here, where valet parking and salmon with cavier hors d'oeuvres at a parent teacher conference is considered normal.

Granted, he hung out with Jared a lot at places like this, but Jared had also seemed a lot more concerned with convincing him to help destroy them like some sort of lifestyle guerilla fighter than helping him fit in.

He slows down as he gets closer, eavesdropping, and expects to hear Jared flirting a little, maybe something about Lessie, but that is not what seems to be going on at all.

"So, then there's no Mrs. Franklin?" Ms. Taku is asking, just a little too sweetly. "I noticed you're the one always coming in for Leslie's... conferences, and now you’re here... Alone."

Peter raises his eyebrows, and manages to just catch her attempt at looking coy between the figure of a basketball player that he vaguely recognizes and, presumably, his equally imposing wife.

He’s a little taken aback, personally, and while admittedly Lessie being cute and a bit spoiled has inadvertently gotten Jared laid once or twice - and if he’s honest here, Peter, too - this still feels a little more wrong.

She's Lessie’s teacher; isn't there some sort of conflict of interest? Like, at least wait until she's in the next grade, jeez.

Peter makes the executive decision to refrain from interrupting, and uses the conveniently placed basketball player as a very tall, very effective sight block.

"Uh - no," Jared answers, sounding oddly reluctant. "Well... Technically."

"Technically?" Ms. Taku prompts.

It's a near perfect echo of Peter's thoughts, though it misses his personal disbelief by a mile. Unless Jared's talking about his own mother as Mrs. Franklin, who as far as Peter's aware never actually took Leonard's name, there’s no one he can think of that would even ‘technically’ fit that description.

"’Technically’ being that I don’t want to... Be presumptuous? But I think that I know where you're going with this," Jared says to Taku, sounding oddly reticent. "And I'm not really in the market, if you catch my drift?"

Be presumptuous? With who; is there someone at work or something?

Peter swallows slightly, tilting his head down to Lessie’s level, "Hey," he whispers, "Does your dad say anything about you getting a mom?"

"A new mom?" Lessie whispers back, cupping her mouth next to his ear. She sounds slightly horrified, like when they watched Finding Nemo and everyone found out exactly how much she hated seagulls.

Peter raises an eyebrow; he didn't even know Jared was telling her about her real mom, not that there's really much to tell. "Yes?"

"No!" Lessie whispers back, somehow making it loud enough to hurt without even going up a single octave. "I don't want a new mom!"

"Okay, okay," Peter says, shushing her and smiling blankly when the basketball player turns to look at them for a moment.

"Well, then, disregarding that embarrassing portion of the conversation," Taku says, coughing delicately and sounding almost exaggeratedly let down.  "I must ask you about your daughter’s unusual attachment to your dog.”

Peter blinks in confusion, leaving the mysterious mother issue for a moment, and glances down at Lessie suspiciously; if she's making up stories elaborate enough to realistically convince her own teacher, they may need to think about channeling this talent before she starts using it for evil.

"Dog?" Jared asks slowly.

Peter decides it’s time to interrupt, conversation growing boring, and tucks Lessie onto his other hip as he squeezes past the basketballer.

"Daddy!" Lessie says excitedly, head picking up as she waves with one hand. "I showed Basher my pictures in the rec room and then we got lost in the hall, but we got found again cause there's like a million people here and they're real loud."

Jared looks vaguely impressed, and though Peter has literally no clue where she got half of that, he agrees with her anyway, smiling and nodding along.

It helps him ignore how Taku is staring at him like he's unlocked some sort of secret to the universe.

"I'll have to go see them next," Jared says brightly, his grin matching Lessie's, "I bet yours is the best one."

"Andy Carmichael is better, but his mommy is a artist so he's not fair," Lessie's corrects with a slightly wistful little sigh.

"Lame," Jared and Peter agree simultaneously, sharing a smirk.

"So you're um - Lessie talks about you quite often," Taku interrupts hesitantly, holding out a hand. "Mr… Basher."

"It's just Bash, actually," Peter corrects, returning the handshake.

"Ah, right," Taku says with a nod, pursing her lips. She continues to stare at him, then glances a moment at Lessie,  “Odd name.”

“Uh,” Peter says, making eye contact with an equally bemused Jared, “Sure, I guess.”

Taku glances between the two of them slowly, “And you’re - The nanny?”

Peter actually makes a point to give Jared a flat look, before turning back to Taku with a smile. “Actually, I’m Jared’s law partner.”

Jared scoffs quietly, rolling his eyes, but he still looks uncharacteristically embarrassed, perhaps even a little more than is appropriate. “It’s never come up.”

“Basher is the jury candy,” Lessie says brightly, stretching and patting Peter on the head before curling her arm back around his neck, strangling him just slightly. “He makes them feel special,” she whispers conspiratorially. “Because they’re stupid.”

Taku looks taken aback, glancing pointedly to Jared with something like accusation.

Peter sighs, hanging his head as much as he can with a small person clutching onto it, “Someone needs to stop hanging around the office.”

“She likes it,” Jared says defensively, shrugging. “‘Sides, it’s not like it’s not true?”

“So you must be really close to - “ Taku coughs lightly into her fist, drawing back their attention, “To, uh, Leslie. For you to come to Parent Night?”

It takes a minute for Peter to realize she’s talking to him, and he’s not quite sure what to say other than a vaguely befuddled, “Yes?”

Something begins to niggle at the back of his mind and he looks to Jared, feeling an uncomfortable mix of annoyance and disappointment settling into the pit of his stomach, “You haven’t mentioned me at all, have you?”

Jared’s expression tells him everything he needs to know, the awkward look away, the skin tightening around his eyes as he gets uncomfortable. “Peter, there wasn’t actually a good time -”

Peter ignores how the tightness worsens as it spreads up to the the back of his throat from his stomach, and just shakes his head dismissively. “No, it’s cool, there isn’t really - “ he raises his eyebrows, turning and smiling at Taku, “There really was no reason to talk about me, obviously... But yeah I am pretty close to her, she’s a good kid.”

It’s true, there wasn’t any reason for Jared to mention him to Lessie’s teacher, but it still... He doesn’t really want to think about the way it makes him feel, actually.

“Yes, she is,” Taku says, though there’s a slight hitch in her words and she nods slowly. “She is even slightly... Precocious, I could describe it.”

“Well, that’s why she’s here,” Jared interrupts, looking hesitant, and smiling tightly in Peter’s direction. “Smart kids go here.”

“Rich kids,” Peter mutters pointedly, feeling suddenly unkind.

Lessie’s arms tighten around his neck and he relaxes slightly, swallowing, and tilts his head against hers instinctively. It doesn’t really matter, anyway, since he’s still here, looking at Lessie’s pictures and sharing her excitement - that’s what really matters, after all, that she’s enjoying it. He ignores the way Jared tries to catch his eyes, and determinedly stares between Taku and him, rocking slightly from heel to heel.

“Well, yes,” Taku agrees, slightly hesitant. “She’s very clever, and her leadership skills are very -”

“Awesome,” Jared completes, voice going firm despite the slang, as if he’s daring her to say different.

Taku smiles placatingly and nods once, taking a breath, “Well, I must... I do need to speak to other parents tonight she says to Jared - only to Jared, his mind whispers treacherously - and then looks to Peter, “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Bash.”

“You too,” Peter says quietly.

She turns to leave, but stops, glancing slightly at Peter with an odd tint in her eye, “And uh, forget about the dog thing, I was - Thinking of another student.”

“Okay,” Jared says slowly, and they both watch her as she leaves, disappearing into the crowd.

“Peter, I didn’t think about it, “ Jared says, sounding anxious. “I hadn’t even had an -”

“It’s fine,” Peter interrupts dismissively, smiling in a way he hopes looks convincing. “There really wasn’t a reason to mention me, I don’t know why I even - It’s fine.”

Jared frowns slightly, his mouth going small and guilty as he does it, and Peter struck with the thought that Jared probably did just honestly forget, though that somehow makes it worse. Peter realizes belatedly that his hold had tightened on Lessie, and tries to relax, shifting his stance.

“So when are we allowed to leave?” he asks, raising his eyebrows. “Is there like a rule?”

Jared shrugs, face still slightly clouded, “I don’t have any more clue that you, dude.”

“Well, we - You - talked to the teacher, so,” Peter tilts his head pointedly, “Seems pretty covered, right?”

“Yeah,” Jared answers, taking a breath and biting his lips a moment, looking away from Peter. “She’s practically falling asleep, anyway.”

“No, I’m not,” Lessie speaks up, but the way she sticks her ‘t’ and doesn’t even lift her head disagrees. “You’re supposed to get my picture,” she insists petulantly, hand curling tightly into Peter’s jacket.

Jared sighs, nodding obediently, and then gestures for them to lead the way, “Let’s go get it then, little Sharky.” He tilts his head at Peter, “Big Sharky.”

Peter rolls his eyes and makes his, technically, third journey across the lobby, almost tripping when a little boy appears literally out of nowhere and beneath his feet, but mercifully making it across with both Jared still right behind him and Lessie hanging off his shoulder. He looks down to check on her, curious about the lack of commentary, and sees that she’s being so quiet because she’s actually managed to fall asleep despite the dull roar of conversation.

“They’re in the little gym,” Peter tells Jared quietly, retracing his steps and managing to find the gym without getting turned around the wrong way. The doors are closed but unlocked, and he turns the handle slowly, “I think she called it a rec room? This place has too many rooms.”

“Ah, yeah,” Jared agrees with a sideways smile. “Stanton was the one who recommended it, remember? Kind of expected it to be a little wacky.”

Peter tilts his head in agreement, acknowledging the point, and shifts his arm slightly as he points to Lessie’s drawing on the board, one of the few left from other parents coming and getting them. He tries to ignore the fact she didn’t tell him to take it when he was here with her, but it’s hard.

“Oh, dude, she drew The Cave,” Jared says, his face lighting up proudly as he gently plucks it off the wall.

Peter nods, and can’t help but catch some of the feeling, “And her handwriting is already better than yours.”

“Shut up,” Jared rebuffs good naturedly, but he runs his thumb over the corner, right over the letters. “Yeah, it totally is,” he says, soft.

“Are you - “ Peter starts, but then stops, feeling stupid. “Nevermind.”

Jared looks up, curious, and carefully folds the drawing so he can hold onto it easier, “Am I what?”

Peter sighs, grimacing slightly, “You’re not, like, dating anyone, are you?”

“What?” Jared says in surprise, first taken aback and then shaking his head almost curiously, like it’s some sort of test, “No, I mean, I - Why -  Wouldn’t you know?”

“I thought so,” Peter says, voice lilting hesitantly, looking away a moment, “But,” he swallows thickly, “I don’t know everything.”

Jared gives him a look that’s almost hurt, somehow, before it blinks away, “Do you think I should be?”

“I don’t really even know,” Peter says, shrugging just slightly, careful of Lessie. “I heard you talking with Taku, earlier, about if you were married.”

Jared relaxes somewhat, “Oh, that, I just - “

“So I do think, though,” Peter interrupts, taking a quick breath before he can lose his momentum, “That it’s probably a good idea for you to at least think about it.”

He’s a little surprised he actually says it, and he doesn’t want to even mean it, but... He actually kind of does, reluctantly.

“You have Lessie, now, so you... “ Peter continues slowly, raising his eyebrows and taking a breath. “You can’t be afraid of getting married forever, not with her,” he says, and tilts his head consideringly in Lessie’s direction. “She’s probably wants a mom, you know?”

He pretends that it doesn’t hurt to actually say that, to recognize Lessie might need more than just ... What they have here, now. Personally, he’s pretty attached to it after five years, but apparently that was more one-sided than he thought.

Jared stares at him a moment, appearing fairly blindsided, then looks down at the paper in his hands, twisting it between his fingers a little. “Oh,” he says in a small voice.

“And she’s pretty hot, you know, in a studious way,” Peter says next, keeping up the absentminded tone. “Good with kids, too, obviously.”  He shifts Lessie in his arms a bit, trying to keep it from getting numb, and nods to himself again, running his teeth sharply against his tongue, “Just something to think about, you know.”

“Yeah, that’s...” Jared starts, then pausing and taking a shallow breath. “You know...” He stops again, “There’s this packet... I should have grabbed,” he glances up just long enough before he turns around that Peter can see his eyes are a little glassy, “I’m going to go grab it and I’ll... I think I’ll just meet you at the car.”

Peter watches him leave and feels a little sick, though he’s not really sure why, other than the obvious fact that he apparently just made Jared so unhappy that he felt the need to run away. This is something that he can’t remember ever happening before now, not in twenty years, and it’s... It’s a really bad feeling.

He glances down at Lessie, still sleeping, and runs a hand through his hair, sighing deeply.

Now they both feel like shit, apparently, but at least it’s even, right? So that’s fair.

No, it’s not.

The journey downstairs to the parking lot proves less easily navigated than to the lobby, and he finds himself sighing more in irritation than personal failure as he passes the same window for a third time, though he swears he went in different directions each time he passed.

“I really, really hate this place,” Peter mutters to himself, staring out the window longingly at the parking lot that’s just visible behind an outcropping of trees.

He debates a moment before gently shaking Lessie awake, starting to feel guilty again when her eyes open to glare at him drowsily. “Basher, I was dreaming,” she says, rubbing an eye as he sets her back down on the ground. “There was the beach.”

“I’m sorry,” Peter says, legitimately regretful. “But your -”

“My classroom!” Lessie exclaims excitedly, suddenly fully awake, pointing down the hall, and completely missing the fact that she scared the shit out of him when she’d screamed like that. “I can give you the present!”

Peter nearly agrees out of pure surprise, but soon realizes something, “Are you supposed to?”

Lessie gives him a blank look, eyes going wide like she’s confused.

He exhales slowly, now the one starting to feel tired, “How about you just show me now, and then give it to me later when you’re supposed to.”

“Okay,” Lessie agrees brightly, smile returning to her face.

He holds out some hope that the classroom is locked, but is still unsurprised when Lessie easily pushes open the door, trying to drag him in with her at the same time despite the physical impossibility.

“Sometimes I feel like you and your dad just suck all my energy away,” Peter sighs, mostly to himself, following behind Lessie when she lets go of him to rummage around in a row of cubbies. “Using it for your own nefarious purposes.”

“What’s nefarsious,” Lessie asks, pausing in her digging and looking up at him curiously. “Is it awesome?”

Peter shrugs, holding up his hands, “It’s like the - “ he furrows his brow, trying to think of a good explanation for a five year old, even a smart one, “It’s like supervillain plans, like how you’re  making me so tired that I agreed to break into your classroom.”

Lessie stares a moment more, blinking, “Oh.” She then whoops in excitement, holding up a very, very glittery piece of paper, folded in half and bound with stiff string. “I found it!”

“I can see that,” Peter says slowly, furrowing his brow, and gently takes it from her upheld hands.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” It reads, and he actually stares at it for a few moments, baffled. He then turns it over, reading, “¡Día de las Madres!”

“We’re learning Espanol,” Lessie tells him proudly, and he’s slightly comforted that her accent is equally as bad as his, even though she’s five.

And... And not actually his daughter, obviously.

On the inside it says “Basher!” in purple sparkly letters, and there is even a little sparkly, slightly malshapen guitar made of green glitter decorating it’s edges. A blue surfboard is on the other side.

“You made a Mother’s Day card,” Peter says slowly, nodding. “Okay.” He feels a little like some great cosmic joke is happening right now, and he has to guess the punchline, though he has a dark feeling it’s him.

“Ms. Taku laughed when I made it, but I asked Daddy and he said it was okay,” Lessie says, biting her lip. “Do you like it? He said you like glitter.”

“Actually, he’s the...“ Peter begins to say, trailing off in the middle of his explanation that Jared is the real appreciator of all things glitter, when he realizes what exactly she’s said, “What do you mean your dad said it was okay?”

Lessie twists her mouth down, looking just this side of devastated, “Do you not like it?”

“No, that’s not it, Shark. I love it,” Peter answers immediately - and, frankly, completely honestly - as he crouchies down next to her, his issues immediately hitting the back burner at her crestfallen expression. “I’m just confused, I guess.” He reaches forward and pulls her into a hug, determined to keep her from crying, “I just don’t understand what you mean.”

Lessie sniffs slightly. “I told Daddy that all the kids were making cards for their moms,” she says, taking a shaky breath, “And he said that ‘cause you were my Basher that means you’re my mom, too, so I could make one.” She presses her face into his shoulder, “Was I not supposed to?”

“Oh,” Peter says, quiet. “No, you were definitely supposed to,” he assures, squeezing her shoulders again before pulling back. “I just didn’t expect it.”

“Did you not know you were my mom either?” Lessie asks, ever perceptive even through her held back sniffles.

“Honestly,” Peter says, raising his eyebrows exaggeratedly and trying to make her laugh.  “I didn’t think your dad knew.”

Lessie looks unhappy with his answer, still frowning just slightly, a tiny furrow between her brows, “He always says you’re my Basher.”

“Yeah, but that’s just...“ Peter says, trailing off. That’s... true, actually. Everyone else had been relegated to Aunts and Uncles almost immediately, whether they were related or not, but Jared had always insisted on him getting... On him getting something special.

It hits him, much too late, that Jared might have meant him when he told Taku - though Peter would refuse on his deathbed to be described as Mrs. Franklin - that he technically, very technically, was already married. In the loosest sense possible.

He swallows, looking down at the card again, and realizes that he might have done something terrible in that gym not fifteen minutes ago.

“Lessie,” Peter says sharply, drawing her attention. He looks up from card, staring in her eyes, “Do you know what happens during the times your dad gets called in when you do something bad?”

“Awesome?” Lessie attempts to correct.

“Bad,” Peter maintains flatly.

Lessie sighs petulantly, looking down at the floor, “He sits there and Ms Taku tells him what I did, and why it was bad.” She says ‘bad’ like the word personally offends her.

“And what does your dad say?” Peter asks, gently handing back the card. “What does he talk about.”

Lessie holds the card carefully and returns it to her pile of papers, covering it up, and then raises her hands in an exaggerated shrug, “He says that he knows, and it won’t happen again, and umm, I remember that after I helped everyone get pudding instead of Jello that he said that I am very creative and that should be reconized.” She says the last bit proudly, even sticking her nose up a bit.

Peter raises his eyebrow, and decides then that...Well, since he’s quickly being proven wrong on the being recognized as a parent part of the night, that he should be the one going to Lessie’s little behavioral conferences from now on, because it sounds like Jared is way too innately rebellious to handle this sort of thing. It’s like mixing Woodstock and the Republican National Convention.

“And they don’t talk about The Cave or anything,” Peter double checks, standing, “Or what you’re like at home?”

“Nope,” Lessie answers, “Just that I shouldn’t be so -” She actually narrows her eyes, thinking, “Punacious.”

Peter stares, “Punacious?”

“Like the smooshy face dog,” Lessie says with a single displeased nod and her brow furrowed in annoyance.

She soon shakes it off and starts pulling Peter towards the door. She tilts her head back and forth as she stops at the jam, stretching up on her toes to reach the light and still not making it. She turns around with a huff, “I don’t like being small.”

“You’re stuck that way, little Shark,” Peter informs her gravely, suppressing a smile. “Make sure to tell your dad that it’s his fault.”

“No, it’s not,” Lessie says, instantly disagreeable. “He’s tall like you.”

“Well, I have to - Wait,” He pauses, looking down at her with a raised eyebrow, “A pug? That smooshed face dog?”

“Yeah, Ms. Taku always says I’m like the dog,” Lessie says, scowling deeply. “Punacious.”

“Pugnacious,” Peter corrects.

Lessie looks up at him, defiant, “Punacious.”

“Pugnacious,” Peter says, just slightly firmer, using a tone she had better recognize by now. “It means you’re a little tiny version of your dad.”

“Not like the dog?” Lessie asks suspiciously. “Why don’t she just say that?”

Peter shrugs, at a loss, “She thinks big words make her smart?”

Lessie purses her mouth, looking up suspiciously. She has a lot of skepticism for someone so small.

“But Daddy says big words do - ”

“Yeah, yeah...” Peter sighs, closing his eyes for a moment. “Okay, this here, right now,  where really like to fight with me? That’s you being pugnacious.”

Lessie blinks up at him, then huffs, seemingly settled on the explanation, and after another moment holds up her arms, “I’m tired.”

“Okay,” Peter says agreeably, bending down and heaving her up, an odd sort of contentment seeping into his chest as she instinctively settles into his side. He smiles slightly, jostling her a bit when she lays her head on his shoulder, “But you have to stay awake and tell me how to get downstairs.”

Lessie grumbles, pouting slightly, and points down the hall. “There’s a elevator, Basher,” she says, in a tone that if he were less exhausted with the night that he’d probably scold her for using.

Peter rolls his eyes, heading in the direction she’s pointed, and sighs deeply when he finds himself in front of said elevator. He’s slightly embarrassed, but at least no one was there to see him pass the doors at least twice. He turns to Lessie to ask her if she knows the floor, but finds she’s already gone to sleep again, head lolled against his shoulder.

“Great,” he sighs, mouth twisting as he looks between the G and the 1. “Just great.” He hesitantly presses the G, hoping it means ground floor and not something else, like the Swedish word for basement, or something.

He breathes out in victory when he sees the outline of an exit sign a few yards down when the doors slide open, and by the time he finds the actual lobby and not the third floor, kindergarten lobby or whatever it was, he’s slightly less tired just out of pure victory over his own stupidity.

The feeling comes back when he sees Jared leaning against the door, sans packet, after apparently deciding to instead wait here rather than at the car, though considering it was dark was probably a good idea.

Jared looks up as Peter’s stepping down the stairs, and gives him a short, slightly annoyed look.

Oh. It was valet parking and Peter has the ticket. Right.

He digs around in his pockets as well he can without disturbing Lessie, and pulls out the little piece of plastic they’d been assigned when they got here. “Sorry,” he mutters to Jared, handing the valet the card. “I might’ve gotten lost.”

“It’s cool,” Jared says, tilting his head and still mostly looking at his phone. “Thought maybe you’d run off.”

Peter gives him a narrow look, brushing up against Jared lightly, “Hasn’t happened yet.”

Jared glances up at that, his brow furrowed. Any sign of the earlier upset is gone, and if the feeling of guilt wasn’t still fresh, Peter would almost think it never happened - but it definitely did and now he has to figure out a way to apologize that doesn’t sound patronizing.

Maybe even one that ends in sex, too, that’d be a real hat trick.  

The valet nods to them a moment later, stepping out of the Prius. Jared opens the back door right before getting in, and Peter carefully buckles in Lessie, extensive experience in the damnable contraption probably the only thing keeping him from waking her.

The drive home is fairly silent, the only noise the radio and Jared’s growing irritation at what proves itself to be a game on his phone. He seems to finally quit right before they get home, aggressively slapping it face down on his thigh and exhaling heavily through his nose.

Peter glances over, determinedly not smirking, “Did you lose?”

“It wasn’t a game you could lose,” Jared answers with a sigh.

Peter catches him glance over once, then a second time, eyes lingering longer. “What?” he asks, looking over a moment and returning the glance.

Jared doesn’t answer for a moment, licking his lips nervously, but eventually looks away completely, “Nothing.”

Peter sighs, turning into their street, and as he pulls up into the garage, placing it in park, he reaches over and grabs Jared’s thigh. Jared startles, understandably, and pauses in unbuckling.

“After we put Lessie to bed, I need to talk to you,” Peter tells him, making sure Jared nods before he lets go.

Jared is the one to get Lessie out, gently unbuckling her, and Peter follows him into the house, as they head towards the bedrooms.

There hadn’t actually been a bedroom for Lessie when she’d been born, and for the first year or so Jared had slept in the same room with her at least half the time, made half-hearted plans to convert the study, but eventually he’d sort of migrated permanently into Peter’s somewhere around the thirty-two month mark.

By the time she was three they’d switched the contents of the rooms, because Peter had brought up the issue of a toddler having an ensuite, and now Peter’s old room is Lessie’s room, and luckily she seems to have similar taste in action figures as them because Jared had refused to put them in storage and Peter had in turn pointed out that they have way too much stuff for even the master suite.

Actually, in hindsight, that should’ve been the first clue that he was overreacting a little about Jared not having told Taku about him, but hindsight is, as always, 20/20.

When Lessie is settled in bed, one of the few times it’s been this easy, Peter finds Jared in the kitchen, frowning at the coffee pot but not actually making anything.

“Hey, about earlier,” Peter starts, gently tapping Jared on the shoulder and prompting him to turn around. “I hadn’t really - “

"Amy actually called about the pregnancy about two weeks before I told you anything," Jared interrupts, the subject so completely out of the blue to a point that Peter's legitimately taken aback.  "And you know, I wasn't..." Jared trails off, looking down at the counter and taking a breath. "I wasn't even going to tell you - or anyone, really - that she had." He grinds his teeth a little, mouth twisting down, “Or that I’d fucked up like that - I was just going to pay her off or whatever she wanted.”

Peter raises his eyebrows, actually a little offended, even if that's not what happened anyway, "Why would - ?"

Jared holds up a hand, silencing him a moment longer, "But, then, like some sort of sign, you got that case defending a woman accused of fraud." He exhales, sharply, "So about a week later, I overhear you talking to her about her kids - that they were cute and how sweet they were, that they were so smart - and it made me I realize that I could..." He stops and bites his lips a moment, "It was stupid, and actually kind of terrible of me, okay? And -" he scoffs derisively, "Obviously didn't work out like I thought, anyway."

"Jared, what are you even - ?" Peter leans against the island, furrowing his brow in confusion. "You're being really unclear, here."

"I love Lessie," Jared says then, dead serious and looking Peter in the eye. "A lot, and I'm glad I kept her, but I..." He looks away again, "The main reason I wanted her so bad, at least in the beginning, is because - " he takes a quick, anxious breath, "Because I thought maybe if... If I had a kid, if I used her to make us - To trap you into being in a..." He chokes slightly, looking small and uncharacteristically ashamed, "I thought if you had family with me, then you'd stop wanting so bad to leave and make one with people like Janie, okay?"

Peter stares at him, mouth open slightly in surprise. His mind is having trouble catching up.

Jared bites his lip then, looking hard enough to bruise, and glances up at Peter. "I don't regret keeping her though, even if you..." He takes a shallow breath, eyes going past him, "Don't think of us like I thought, I guess."

"Jared..." Peter starts, stepping forward and crowding Jared slightly against the counter. He reaches up and catches Jared's jaw in one of his hands, leaning down into him, "Buddy, that's a little super villain-y."

"Shut up," Jared says, brow furrowing with no little anxiety, "I'm trying to confess being a selfish dick and here - "

Peter leans down further, catching his lips a moment, just long enough for Jared to relax under his hands, "I think of you exactly like that, okay?" He curls his hand further around the back of Jared's neck, "And it never would have worked with any of those women, anyway," he runs his thumb along the length of Jared's throat, feeling oddly sentimental,  "Because I could never love them half as much as you."

Jared stiffens slightly, but his head soon tilts into Peter's palm, though he doesn't look up, "Sure, whatever."

"Seriously," Peter says, pressing another kiss against the flat of his jaw, "Even Janie reminds you every time she sees you, and we broke up years ago."

Jared leans back, away from Peter’s mouth, and looks up at him. He then reaches up with one hand, fingers light against Peter's ribs and his mouth twisting unpleasantly. "Then why would you try to marry me off to some teacher?"

Peter is the one looking away this time, reliving his earlier embarrassment, "When the teacher said she didn't know who I was, I kind of I assumed... I just thought maybe you didn't think of me like that - As her parent."

Jared bites his lips, eyebrows furrowing slightly, "But I told you I didn't get a chance."

"Yeah," Peter agrees, sighing, "I, sort of - " he grimaces, curling forward slightly, "Didn't really believe you."

Jared regards him a moment, eyes narrow. He walks his hand up Peter's chest, starting to smile just slightly, "Your self esteem takes the weirdest times to fall."

Peter resists rolling his eyes and sighs shallowly, "No, I was... I felt..." He bites his tongue, "I felt like a fraud? I guess. Like you thought the last five years of me being here was just some sort of..." He sighs, “I don’t even know.”

"Oh," Jared says, reaching up with his other hand, curling it over Peter's collarbone. He leans up, pecking Peter on the lips, lingering just slightly before falling back, "I'll make sure to start all my future conversations by saying Lessie has two daddies, okay?"

"Yeah, I'm sure that'll get you laid," Peter mutters, getting slightly distracted by the kissing. He presses his own lips just next to Jared's ear, lingering, "Probably never."

"Your signals are so fucked," Jared laughs quietly, tilting his head closer. "Telling me you love me one moment and then worried I won't get laid the next..."

Peter presses another kiss, this time lower, closer to the bottom of his jaw, "And you never said you loved me back, did you?" A moment later, he can actually feel Jared rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, yeah," Jared mutters, pulling Peter against him and the counter. " 'Course I love you back."

"Doesn't sound like you’re taking this moment as serious as you should," Peter says, teasing, but he follows Jared's lead and catches his lips in a longer kiss, his thumb tracing along Jared's jaw. They part a few moments later and he remaps the edge with his teeth, "I guess I'll take it, though."

Jared's hand tightens along his chest and he takes a breath, "You know - I could, if you wanted, draw up adoption papers. If that would make you feel better."

"Really?" Peter hums, still distracted with the intimacy, then pauses, his heart speeding up just slightly. "Now, I've never done that before, but," he spreads a hand out along Jared's back, lips brushing up against his ear, "I'm pretty sure that requires, at the very least, domestic partnership."

Jared freezes a moment, then looks slightly defiant, slightly nervous, glancing sideways through his eyelashes. "...Probably."

"Well," Peter allows, starting to smile wider. Man, he is such a sap; it's probably insane to go from worried about breaking up, or at least their equivalent, to marriage, again their equivalent, in the same night. Same hour. "Probably wouldn't be much different anyway," he says, just slightly teasing.

"You've been cockblocking me since the beginning of time, may as well have papers to back it up," Jared says, only slightly sarcastic and running his tongue between his lips, eyes somewhere on Peter's collarbone. His fingers are getting braver, grasping over the curve of Peter's chest, his shoulders.

Peter rolls his eyes. "I've never needed to cockblock you," he says, trailing a few slow kisses down Jared's jaw.

Jared leans into the movement, tipping his head back enough to catch Peter in a too-short kiss. "Well, not since you took over my room," he murmurs lightly, hands getting antsy around the collar of Peter's shirt, pulling loose his tie. “But you’re always rude to people I like for longer than a few days - Jealous, really." He smirks slightly as he says ‘jealous,’ glancing up at Peter.

"I am not," Peter disagrees. He's always been polite, even to the ones clearly not good enough. Like Kandi the video girl, who had been nice enough, but didn’t get any of Jared jokes.

Jared hums disbelievingly, tilting his head up, and they're kissing again, first light and pecking, then deeper. Jared’s tongue teases against Peter's before he leans back again, frustratingly enough, still smiling. "Tonight, you actually heard me telling a woman that I wasn’t interested, and still managed to build an entire story against yourself around it."

"There were other things," Peter says defensively, shifting slightly to frown at Jared. "It wasn't just that." His mouth twists down, “That makes me sound crazy.”

"It's okay," Jared tells him, just slightly patronizing, stroking down Peter's chest and then back up, teasing.

Peter, shocking even to himself, finds the back of his neck heating up, "Well, I... Shut up."

Jared grins then pulls Peter's head down and draws him even closer, until Peter's pressing them together up against the kitchen counter. The kiss soon grows deeper, more heated, to the point that Peter's got one hand up Jared's shirt, not quite sure how it got there, and Jared's quickly sneaking under his belt.

It probably would've gone the whole way on the center island, if it weren't for the strangled shriek coming from the porch entrance just a few minutes later, signalling Pindar and Carmen's homecoming. He flinches involuntarily, curling over slightly, and sighs wistfully as he takes a half-step back. Jared follows and catches him in another short kiss, a hand at his shoulder, before then falling back against the counter almost petulantly.  

"You guys have a room," Pindar announces, just this side of a shriek and probably thinking of Lessie, attempting to shove at them without actually doing any sort of touching. "And you sleep in it, together, doing probably other things that I don't think about and didn't just witness in the kitchen; why don't you go there now?"

Jared sighs, pushing at Peter slightly, but only just hard enough that Peter takes barely half a step back.

"Man has a point," Carmen agrees, but with much less fanfare. "Though I'm a little curious about what you both found to be... Exciting? At an elementary school's parent night."

"Okay, that sounds wrong," Jared says, rubbing slightly at his lips with a thumb.

They are very, very distractedly red right now, Peter finds, and it's slightly difficult for him to understand why it wouldn't be more weird to not find Jared hot at an elementary school.

"Almost as wrong as having sex where people eat," Pindar interjects sharply, glaring at them both, but mostly Peter. He can probably see that Peter's mostly ignoring him right now.

"Lessie showed me my mothers day card," Peter says, almost absentmindedly, He's still mostly watching Jared and that damnable oral fixation at work.

He starts paying more attention when everyone seems to go quiet, looking at him oddly.

"She actually made that?" Jared asks, starting to grin. "That's fucking cute." He winds his grin down into more of a satisfied smirk, "Didn't think she'd listen - I was mostly just trying to make her feel better."

Peter nods slowly, shrugging, "I found her classroom when I got lost - Also, kind of when I figured out I overreacted about... The thing." He raises his eyebrows at the memory, "There was a lot of glitter."

"Well, that is adorable," Carmen laughs, putting something styrofoam wrapped in the fridge. "A little odd, but I can't say I'm surprised. She is raised in this house."

"Oh," Peter says, more of the sex fog lifting. "She also said that you actually disagree with Ms. Taku about her getting punished?"

"Uh, that's - " Jared shrugs, spreading his hands, "That's to say I don't agree that it... Deserved suspension. She's just in kindergarten."

"She started a riot in the cafeteria," Peter says flatly, then tilts his head, eyes narrowing, "Which you practically rewarded her for..." he rubs his brow, "I really should be going to these."

"Probably," Jared agrees, though he looks slightly petulant about it. He then licks his lips, slowly, which immediately returns Peter's train of thought to just minutes earlier. He looks at Peter a long moment, then turns to Carmen and Pindar,  "I'm going to turn in, I think."

Peter stares after him, eyes drawn down to the still untucked shirt at his waist.

"I think you guys should teach a class," Carmen says, startling him slightly. He looks over and sees she's actually pointing after Jared, raising an eyebrow, "Because that shit after as long as you guys have been together? Does not seem normal."

Scratching his brow, Peter nods slightly, glancing back when he hears the bedroom door and starting to step back over that way, "Uh, if you say... So..."

“You are so dialed in to him it’s almost depressing,” Carmen says with an eye roll, shaking her head. "Just go."

 


End file.
